


#littlecalumthings

by CalumSmiles (dreamforlife)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Humour, Kinky Calum, Luke is a good friend, M/M, Michael is a good friend, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oblivious Ashton, Oblivious Calum, Pining, Wall Sex, hardcore pining, sad frustrated Calum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamforlife/pseuds/CalumSmiles
Summary: Luke loses it as Michael throws his head back and howls, laughter high-pitched and squeaky as he waves an apologetic hand at Calum before letting himself get swept up in Michael’s infectious amusement. 
“I fucking hate you all,” Calum mutters, crossing his arms and scowling out the window. 
“Hey Ash,” Michael gasps in a poor imitation of Calum, “Hey Ash, I’m so gay, I’m so fucking gay!” 
Luke pleads for relief, leaning weakly against the car door, eyes streaming as he clutches at his stomach. 
“I love cocks, did you know? Cocks are the best, I love cocks!” Michael waves an imaginary bottle of beer in the air. "Cocks, man! I love them!"
Calum hates Michael. He really hates Michael. He hates Luke too, that little shit. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pining Calum, oblivious Ashton and ultimately, wall sex. Michael should've bought the popcorn.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irwah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irwah/gifts).



> So I brought up a random little thing I wrote a few days ago to Dani and...well. This happened within a few days as a result. Basically, I had no choice to finish writing it because kinky Calum is my lifeblood. Oh my mother would be sO proud. 
> 
> This one is for Dani because it literally wouldn't exist without her, especially after she said "he's a kinky little sad closeted boy  
> who's in love with his best friend but also SO KINKY." I don't know how kinky this is, but wall sex, amiright? ;) Title credit to Dani as well!!
> 
> Anyways, my lovely lovely friends, I hope you enjoy this. Cashton wall sex is the finale, what more do we need, really? 
> 
> ENJOY!

Calum never knew that he wanted to be in this situation until he was in it. Actually, that’s a lie. That’s the biggest lie he’s probably ever told.

Calum had not so secretly dreamt about this moment for _months._ Fuck, _years_ even. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it isn’t the _ideal_ situation. So, he has to pretend. He has to _act._  

“Ash, come on, bro, let me down!” He groans, squirming and trying—not very hard—to slip out of Ashton’s grip.

Ashton just chuckles darkly and holds him up, hard and fast, against the wall. By his ass. “Admit it, you shit. You’re the one who took my shirt.”

Calum would admit to many things but if it meant that he was going to be let down and set back on the ground, well, he might just very conveniently forget those things.

“What shirt? I haven’t touched your shit, I swear!”

The grip on his thighs tighten and Calum can feel the hair on the back of his neck rise in response. _Jesus._ Thank god the others aren’t around. Michael would have straight up made a bowl of popcorn and watched with a smirk on his face.

“The _new one,”_ Ashton says, fingers flexing, and oh God, Calum might have _bruises_ by tomorrow.

A groan sticks in his throat, and his interested cock chubs up a little more. Calum prays to God that Ashton doesn’t feel it.

“For fuck’s sake, Luke stole it yesterday!” comes tumbling out of him as Ashton tightens his grip and shoves him a little further up the wall, and in all of three seconds, Ashton’s weight is gone from in front of him and Calum is left standing, dazed and blinking around him in sudden confusion, as his knees threaten to buckle.

_Shit._

“Luke took it?” Ashton demands, scowling. “That little _fuck._ I have a date—I’m gonna kill him, that shit.”

As Ashton goes storming out of his bedroom, Calum drops to the ground like a stringless puppet, hands sliding to the backs of his thighs and feeling the ghost of Ashton’s fingers pressing in.

Definitely going to bruise.

He’s rock hard now; he doesn’t know how Ashton didn’t notice with his entire body weight pressing against him. Maybe he was too busy yelling to notice…

Ashton’s low, grunting threats ring in his ear and _god,_ Calum doesn’t deserve this. He’s been a good boy. Fuck, he’ll be Ashton’s good boy if it gets him what he wants, needs, _craves._

He stumbles to the bathroom, barely in a space of mind to lock the door before he falls back against it and shoves his hand down his shorts. His body is on fire.

It doesn’t take more than a minute, with one hand fisted around his leaking cock and the other hand pressed tight over his mouth, to come with the thought of Ashton’s fingers squeezing his thighs, so close to his ass, and a rough voice growling in his ear.

His back arches and he muffles the obscene moans into his palm, falling back against the door with a thud, exhausted.

Calum lets his knees give out, sliding down the door with his chest heaving and cock twitching with aftershocks.

_Fuck._

 

*

 

Michael finds him at his lowest.

While it isn’t something that Michael hasn’t seen before, Calum just doesn’t want him to see him like this. Not this low.

“Aw, Cal…”

Calum grunts, growls as he sinks his fist into the punching bag, and ignores the pained furrow of his best friend’s brow. His muscles are aching, sweat glistening on his bare chest, hair soaked as he pulls back and drives his whole weight behind the next punch.

Droplets of sweat fly around him in a waterfall.

His face is wet too, with sweat and tears. Tears of frustration, of anger, of sheer emotional exhaustion streaming out of his eyes, down the splotchy red of his cheeks.

Because the thing is, Calum doesn’t just want Ashton to fuck him against a wall six ways to Sunday.

“Cal, you’re killing yourself,” Michael’s soft voice cuts through the red haze in his brain but Calum can’t stop.

The crunch of his taped knuckles against the hard grit of the punching is the only thing keeping him sane. The drive of his fists, the grating of his breath holding his fraying edges together.

“I know you, okay? _I know.”_ There’s a hand on his shoulder suddenly, a gentle grip on his tense forearm just as he’s about to plough forwards, and he freezes. “But you can’t keep doing this to yourself… _please_ , Cal.”

Calum’s knees give out at the despairing plea and Michael catches him, holding him tight against his body despite the state that Calum is in.

A gasping, painful breath shudders through his aching throat and Calum buries his messy face in Michael’s shoulder and tries to breathe past the sobs that tear out of him.

“It’s okay,” Michael murmurs, rubbing his back slowly. “I got you. It’s okay.”

Is it?

Calum doesn’t know anymore.

So, no. He doesn’t just want Ashton. He’s in love with the oblivious bastard.

 

*

 

“How long are you going to do this?”

Michael doesn’t beat around the bush, straight to the point as always, tone direct and expectant. It’s barely been half an hour since his unfortunate breakdown and Calum just. He wants to sleep. Forever, maybe.

He deflates into the couch, silently and in no mood to talk, drawing the rug around himself and burrowing into it.

“Calum, I’ve watched you torture yourself over this for almost eight months, and who knows how fucking long before I found out. You need to do something.”

He looks up, catching Michael’s sharp green eyes. “What, Michael? What do you want me to do?” He asks tiredly. “Ashton’s out there, fucking some girl, and all I can do is pretend that I’m fucking happy that he’s getting some while pretending that my whole fucking life isn’t falling apart in front of my eyes.”

Michael settles gingerly on the edge of the couch, hand resting on Calum’s rug-covered feet. “Why don’t you start by telling him that you’re gay?”

Calum’s throat clenches. Eyes fixed to the blank television, he breathes in and breathes out. “It’s been three years…do you really think I can just sit down with him and tell him that I’ve been lying to him all this time?”

“You told Luke,” Michael says quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “You told Luke and it was fine. Ashton will understand.”

Calum huffs a cheerless laugh. “I told Luke two years ago, Michael. Ashton will hate me for lying about it for so long and he’ll hate me more when he realises that both of you already know.”

He yelps as Michael hits him around the head.

“Ashton won’t hate you. In fact, Ashton doesn’t fucking know _how_ to hate you. Fuck’s sake, Jesus Christ!” Michael exclaims, waving his hands in the air. “Have you not being paying any attention in the past five years?”

Calum scowls and sits back against the couch. “Because I know how to let him be and not annoy the crap out of him when he’s pissed.”

Michael stares at him with wide, disbelieving eyes for a moment before he shakes his head, muttering under his breath. “Alright,” he states eventually. “Fine. _Fine._ I’m letting it go.”

“Thanks—”

“Don’t,” Michael bites out, falling back on the couch. He sighs heavily. “Don’t thank me for something that’s going to end up killing you in the end.”

Calum shuts up abruptly, blinking wide.

Oh.

He shuffles, heart squeezing in his chest, and settles with his head in Michael’s lap.

“You’re a good friend, you know,” he says softly. “Thank you.”

Michael’s stony expression cracks and he smiles, gentle and helpless, pushing his fingers into Calum’s hair. Fourteen years of friendship is somehow reflected in the simple gesture. “Yeah, yeah.”

 

*

 

When Ashton gets home past two in the morning, all Calum can do is swallow the bile that rises up in his throat at the sight of him and flash him a thumbs up.

The eldest winks, tapping the side of his nose, and slinks past the living room towards his bedroom.

“I love him, but he’s a fucking idiot,” Michael whispers from where he’s lying on the couch with his head in Calum’s lap. “How can he not see how you feel?”

“Leave it, Michael,” Calum murmurs, tearing his eyes away from the place where Ashton had stood and looking back to the TV.

Michael huffs. “He’s an idiot,” he mumbles with a petulant jut of his lower lip.

Calum’s lips twitch despite himself.

 

*

 

There’s a very pleasant buzz in Calum’s blood and he smiles blearily at whatever is Luke is trying to tell him, nodding absently.

They are in Houston, the day before the fifty-eighth show of the tour, and just hanging out together in Michael’s room.

He lifts his sixth beer of the night, gulping down a few mouthfuls, and spots Ashton across the hotel room, lounging on Michael’s bed with a bottle of his own. Ashton should drink more, Calum thinks, because the alcohol-induced blush isn’t impressive enough.

But Ashton is impressive, isn’t he? Calum is so impressed by him. His face, his brain, his body, his view of life, the way he throws all his energy into drumming. Calum doesn’t think anyone could be more perfect.

“Hey!” He calls, grinning when Ashton turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, Ash, guess what?”

Luke sighs and accepts that the conversation is over.

“What, Cal?” Ashton asks, grinning.

Calum loves that grin. He dreams about it sometimes, you know? It’s very…it’s beautiful, to say the least and really, Calum wants to kiss it.

“Hey Ash,” he slurs again, waving his bottle.

“Oh dear bloody God,” Michael mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Someone should’ve stopped him at the third bottle.”

“Yeah, Calum?” Ashton asks again, shaking his head.

Calum loves the way Ashton’s hair flies, flops over his forehead into bright hazel eyes. The strong nose and sharp jaw line, the dimples. The lips. Calum wants to kiss them.

God, he’s so—

“Gay,” Calum says aloud, blearily, chuckling to himself. He forgets what he was going to tell Ashton in the first place. “I’m so gay.”

Michael’s head snaps up.

Luke drops his phone.

Calum laughs, the sound echoing brightly around the room, grinning as Ashton gapes at him.

“I’m so fucking gaaaayyy! Did you know that? I like boys, Ash, boys are fucking awesome, with scruff and muscles and cocks, cocks are great, I fucking love cocks, I love cocks fucking me, I wanna have y—”

There’s a clamp over his mouth suddenly, cutting off his words and Calum turns with wide eyes to find Luke standing next to him, ears red and eyes frantic.

He tries to talk, confused by Luke’s actions, sounds muffled into the palm over his mouth, but Luke shakes his head.

“You’re so going to regret this in the morning,” he says quietly. “Cal, c’mon. We gotta go.”

Calum shakes himself free of Luke’s hand. He frowns sadly at the half empty beer in his hand. “Can I take this?”

Luke smiles at him and it’s just a little sad. “Yeah, Cal. You can take it.”

Calum lights up, grinning again as he waves to Ashton and Michael and follows Luke out the door.

He doesn’t see Ashton watching him go with wide, stunned eyes. He doesn’t see Michael gather his wits and bury his face in his hands.

He just swigs beer as he goes and collapses into bed with Luke watching him with uncertainty creasing his eyes.

 

*

 

The fallout doesn’t come.

Calum is mortified when he wakes up, going down to breakfast with his shoulders by his ears with _I’m so fucking gay_ echoing in his ears. But Ashton just smiles at him, even if it is a little strained, and gestures to the chair next to him.

“It’s okay, Cal. It’s fine, I promise. I don’t care about that, okay?”

The relief that curls through him has him sagging into the chair, shoulders dropping. “Oh thank fuck,” he blurts out, rubbing his eyes as a sudden ache starts behind them.

Ashton squeezes his shoulder, a soft look on his face. “Eat, bro.”

And that’s what Calum does, feeling lighter than he had felt in so, so long.

That is until Michael quietly fills him in on what he’s forgotten through the haze of alcohol as they ride to the venue and Calum sinks as low as he can in his seat, wanting to melt into the ground, feeling nauseous and regretting the full breakfast he had eaten that morning.

“Oh _fuck_ me,” he sighs into his hands.

“At least he doesn’t hate you,” Michael murmurs, glancing at the two in the front seat.

Calum just groans mournfully.

Michael starts laughing suddenly, curling into himself and cackling. It rings around the car and catches the attention of Luke and Ashton in the front, the two of them turning around to catch Calum’s puzzled shrug.

“What’s—”

There’s gasping breath before Michael wipes at the tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. “Fuck, if I had a dollar for every time you said cocks,” he says, chortling. “I can’t believe you told us you liked getting fucked up the ass, oh my god, I can’t _breathe—”_

He sets himself off again and Calum can feel fire burning in his cheeks as Ashton chokes, flushing bright red before he starts laughing awkwardly.

Luke loses it as Michael throws his head back and _howls_ , laughter high-pitched and squeaky as he waves an apologetic hand at Calum before letting himself get swept up in Michael’s infectious amusement.

“I fucking hate you all,” Calum mutters, crossing his arms and scowling out the window.

“ _Hey Ash,”_ Michael gasps in a poor imitation of Calum, _“Hey Ash, I’m so gay, I’m so fucking gay!”_

Luke pleads for relief, leaning weakly against the car door, eyes streaming as he clutches at his stomach.

_“I love cocks, you know? Cocks are the best, I love cocks!”_ Michael waves an imaginary bottle of beer in the air. _“Cocks, man! I love them!”_

Calum hates Michael. He really hates Michael. He hates Luke too, that little shit.

But as he turns to look out the window, he catches the hot flash of bright hazel eyes and feels it like lightning in his chest. His stomach drops out, the peak of a rollercoaster just before it crashes down the track.

Oh fuck.

But that moment barely lasts two seconds before Ashton is grinning at him, a teasing lilt to his lips as he waggles his eyebrows.

And Calum wants to drown himself in a volcano.

 

*

 

“Ungh _fuck,”_ Calum groans, head falling to the side as his fingers rub against his prostate.

He knows this is dangerous. They’ve had to share rooms this time, something about late bookings and a lack of single rooms and Comic Con, and Michael had jumped at the chance to room with Luke, leaving Calum to grit his teeth and turn to Ashton with grin.

Ashton had grinned right back and that had been it.

But right now, as Calum writhes on his bed with three fingers deep in his ass, cock leaking all over his stomach, the imminent possibility of Ashton walking in on him just makes the arousal flare brighter in his stomach.

He thinks back to that day, now three months ago, Ashton’s hard body pressing him into the wall, fingers bruising on his thighs, fingertips just under his ass—

A shudder ripples down his spine and he crooks his fingers, moaning as he thrusts in hard. God, _god,_ he just needs Ashton. He needs Ashton to fuck him until he can’t walk, until he can barely sit, until he’s sore everywhere with Ashton’s handprints bruised into his hips, thighs, _fuck,_ he needs it.

“Ash,” Calum whines low in his throat, tossing his head, and pushes down onto his fingers, wishing they were Ashton’s long fingers, letting his leg fall onto the bed and wrapping his free hand around his throbbing cock.

The head is wet, sticky with pre-come leaking with every twist of his fingers against his prostate and Calum can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, jerking himself off fast with Ashton’s hot eyes seared behind his eyelids and gasping as it comes barrelling into him, vision blacking out as a strangled yelp claws out of his throat.

Ashton’s name falls out of his mouth unbidden, helplessly.

_“Ashton,”_ he keens. He arches upward. “ _Fuck,_ Ash, _fuck me fuck me fuck me—!”_

Come drips over his fist onto his heaving belly and Calum pants, eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling as he comes down slowly.

It’s when he rolls onto his side and sits up that he realises that he isn’t alone.

Ashton is standing just inside the door—thankfully closed—eyes shining wide and dark, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

Horror pours through Calum, humiliation pools sick and twisting in his gut, and all he can do is sit where he is, come on his stomach, lube slick on his fingers, mortifying traces of what he’s been doing.

But it’s not those things that makes the humiliation in his stomach bubble.

He knows, with one look at Ashton’s blank face and white-knuckled grip on the door handle, that he heard Calum moan his name when he came all over himself, begging Ashton to fuck him. There’s an enormous neon sign above his head that screams _GUILTY._

“Hey,” Calum croaks after a good three minutes have passed, lungs airless and tight.

His voice seems to shake Ashton out of his trance and he takes a few slow, searching steps further into the hotel room.

 “Was that—” Ashton’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, the rough sound deafening in the silence stretching between them. Calum can’t help but cringe as Ashton’s jaw ticks again. “Did you just jerk off to me?”

Calum’s throat is scrapes as he sucks in a breath. His head spins. This can’t be happening. This is absolutely not happening.

_“Shit,”_ he hisses under his breath, surreptitiously pinching his thigh and cringing again when Ashton’s eyes flick to the movement. “I… _fuck,_ I’m sorry.”

Ashton says nothing but his eyes move to the left and Calum feels a wave of heady, confusing arousal mixed in with disbelief as dark hazel eyes stare at his cock. Which unfortunately begins to take an interest in the proceedings and perks up a little. A flush burns down the back of Calum’s neck.

“Uh…” is all Calum can say as Ashton’s eyes slowly slide to his come-and-lube-covered hand and then lift upward, over the drying mess on his stomach, resting on his lips before they rise to meet Calum’s.

There is something horrifyingly erotic about the heated flash of Ashton’s eyes over him and Calum’s lips are torn to shreds as he chews nervously at them.

Unable to sit still any longer, Calum flies to his feet and makes a break for the ensuite bathroom because he can at least drown himself in the bathtub instead of ever facing Ashton again. And maybe jerk off again because _fuck,_ Ashton should never look at him like that ever again. But definitely drown himself afterwards.

He doesn’t make it.

Long, powerful fingers suddenly have a bruising grip on his arm. Calum almost flies forward with the abruptness of it, lurching backwards until he’s standing beside Ashton, staring at him.

His heart kick-starts in his chest at the dark, hungry eyes that meet his. Calum feels the pit in his stomach grow into a void, the fire in his blood flaring as fingertips dig into his bicep.

“How long?” Ashton asks, voice low.

Calum tries not to whimper. “Too long.”

A rough gasp spills out of him as he finds himself trapped against the wall next to the bed. His visions shudders.

His cock is hard. It’s so hard that he feels a little dizzy with it. Ashton’s eyes flick down to it before he lifts his gaze back to pin Calum in place.

“I need an answer, Calum.”

Hands drive him further into the wall and Calum nothing short of melts.

“Three,” he almost moans. “Three years.”

Ashton’s shock is obvious. He reels back, letting go of Calum, and with wide, suddenly uncertain eyes, asks, “What? All this time?”

Calum wavers on his feet without Ashton holding him up, his legs threatening to give out at the sudden change in pace. But he breathes in and tries to centre himself, letting the wall take his weight.

“Yeah.” He swallows. Catches Ashton’s glittering eyes and tells himself that it’s _fine._ That it’ll be fine. His stomach churns. “All this time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Calum doesn’t see the it coming.

_“Ow!”_ He yelps and ducks as Ashton goes to hit him over the head again, stumbling on unsteady feet. _“What the fuck, Ashton?”_

Ashton crosses his arms, a spectacular glower marring his face. “You’re an idiot.”

Calum rubs the spot on his head and gapes. “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” Ashton offers again. He uncrosses his arms, shoving a hand through his hair. “ _God,_ Cal, do you have any idea—” He breaks off, cursing, before gesturing a wild hand up and down Calum’s body. “Can you please do something about… _that_ before I lose my _fucking_ mind, please?”

All he can do is gape some more. What the _hell_ is _happening?_

Ashton swears again. “Calum,” he says slowly, eyes flicking to him before flicking away again, “I’m begging you. Put some clothes on or this discussion is going to happen after.”

Calum shakes himself, has enough presence of mind to ask, “After?”

Hazel-ringed dark eyes flash to him, catching his eyes and a molten heat flares in the pit of Calum’s stomach.

“After I’ve fucked you until you can’t walk without feeling what I’ve done to you.”

The words are growled, choked through gritted teeth and Calum’s flagging erection jumps back to attention embarrassingly quickly. Ashton’s response is a frustrated groan. Calum bites back a moan because _shit._

_Shit._

A hysterical laugh bursts out of his mouth and Calum falls back against the wall as something like glee zips through his veins because that’s when he notices the bulge in Ashton’s jeans. He wraps a cursory hand around his cock, squeezing the base with a hiss.

“What do you want, a gilded invite?” He manages to say, catching Ashton’s eyes. “I needed you in me three years ago.”

Ashton’s on him before Calum has time to breathe, mouth crushed to his and a calloused hand around his cock.

Calum arches off the wall with a cry muffled into the wet heat of Ashton’s mouth, hands scrambling until he hooks them around Ashton’s neck and pulls himself up into the kiss. The hand on his cock twists and Calum rocks up into the grip as Ashton slips his tongue into his mouth with a needy sound.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Ashton mutters against his mouth.

Calum agrees wholeheartedly as Ashton does something wonderful with his fingers.

The grip on his cock is almost too much, rough and bruising as Ashton strokes him until the coil in his stomach is wound tight, a spring seconds from bursting open.  

Gasping, their mouths separate, spit-slick lips slide across his jaw and down to the corded muscle of Calum’s neck and he shudders as teeth graze across skin. Ashton pushes a smile against the muscle as it ticks, as Calum twists in his arms. His thumb brushes over the head of Calum’s cock, smearing pre-come down the length, rubbing the vein underneath until Calum’s head spins.

_“Fuck,”_ he gasps against Ashton’s ear, head falling to the side as the wall grates against the bare skin of his back. _“Yeah,_ just like that.”

Ashton huffs a velvet-smooth dark laugh as he drags his lips up Calum’s neck and free hand comes to rest against Calum’s throat just as he bites into the swell of Calum’s earlobe. The hand on his throat tightens and Calum’s body goes hot and cold, a whimper falling out of his mouth.

“No,” Ashton murmurs, a sudden tight grip around the base of Calum’s cock. He sucks on his earlobe, breath hot as he pulls back with another amused sound, wicked. “Don’t come yet.”

Calum feels like drowning. His heart is wild in his chest, cock so hard he can barely breathe, gasping as Ashton pulls away with a sharp bite to his jaw. His blood is restless, ramming through him, leaving him squirming against the wall to scratch the impossible itch. Through drooped eyelids, he catches Ashton’s dark, glittering eyes as he steps back with gentle brush of fingers across Calum’s heaving stomach muscles.

“I want you to come with me inside you,” he says, the soft look disappearing as lips curving into a razor-sharp grin. “With me holding you up against that wall and fucking you until you scream.”

Calum wraps his own hand around his cock as a moan rips out of him, throwing his head back against the wall, thrashing a little as the words send ripples down his spine, heated coils pooling in his gut.

“Fuck you,” he groans, letting his eyes crack open in time to see the cheeky wink Ashton sends his way. “ _Fuck you.”_

“No,” Ashton throws his shirt behind him, yanking off his jeans in a rush as Calum gives into to the roaring arousal and sinks two fingers into his still-loose hole. _“Fuck,_ Cal, _Jesus_ —no,” he continues, voice strained. “I’m the one fucking _you.”_

Calum rolls his shoulders back, eyes on the bulge of Ashton’s erection beneath black cotton as he pushes a third finger into himself and exhales shakily.

“Oh?” He asks unsteadily, leaning further against the wall as his legs threaten to collapse underneath him. “All I feel are my fingers.”

Ashton growls but all Calum can concentrate on is the bob of Ashton’s cock as it springs up as the boxers are torn down his thighs. It’s long and thick, flushes an angry red at the tip and Calum pants, mouth watering at the thought of tasting it, of it spreading him open and pounding into his prostate.

As Ashton rummages through a suitcase for a condom and rolls it on with fumbling fingers, Calum leans even further into the wall. Watching lube dribble down the length of Ashton’s cock is something he’s never likely to forget.

_“Fuck,”_ he hisses, twisting his fingers and trying to get further but failing. “Ashton _,_ hurry the fuck up _.”_

Hands circle his wrists, forcing his fingers out, and Ashton presses in close, lips ghosting over Calum’s parted ones as he loops Calum’s arms over his shoulders. “Hold tight, cowboy,” he murmurs, pushing his cock against Calum’s, grinning when all Calum can do is try to breathe.

He thinks that Ashton should stop with the bloody teasing and alpha posturing and just—

Any coherent thought left in Calum’s brain melts out when Ashton grips his thighs and hauls him up, pushing him harder against the wall, forcing a moan out of him because _fuck,_ this is it. This is what he’d _craved_ for so long—

His legs wrap around Ashton’s waist, shuddering as the blunt head of Ashton’s cock slides against his hole, rubs against the sensitive ring of muscle until he’s panting, catching against his rim to make him whimper.  

“ _God,”_ Calum manages, head lolling against the wall. “Get inside me.”

Ashton ducks his head to bite over Calum’s hammering pulse and pushes inside in a burning stretch until his hips are flush against Calum’s, and amidst the _fuck me fuck me fuck me_ that falls out of Calum’s mouth, pulls back and thrusts in, sinking Calum down on his cock. _Hard._

A relieved moan spills out of Calum, air punching out of his lungs, and his nails dig into Ashton’s shoulders.

He can make out Ashton’s panting through the ocean roar in his ears but all he can do is pull Ashton closer and feel so full like he’s being torn apart. _God,_ if Ashton knew how much he’s been needing this, how much he’s wanted to be taken and shaken up like a ragdoll.

“Shit,” Ashton slurs, humid and hot against the thin skin behind Calum’s ear. He thrusts in again, changing the angle enough that Calum clenches around him with a hitched breath. “ _Fuck,_ Cal.”

Ashton’s back arches as he bends to lick over Calum’s nipple and sucks the other one into his mouth.

_“Ungh,”_ comes garbled out of his mouth. His legs tighten around Ashton’s hips. “Asht—your cock— _fuck me—_ ”

Ashton snaps. He slams Calum back, into the wall, and he fucks up into him with a restless energy in each thrust, like he’s been gagging for it for so long like Calum. Like he’s wanted this, wanted _Calum_ so much that he’s lost his mind now that he has him. Something rattles, a crash somewhere next to them and Calum absently makes a note to leave cash for whatever it is that broke but Ashton’s pounding into him and his cock is sliding over Calum’s prostate with each jagged thrust and incoherent sounds are pouring out of him into Ashton’s hair.

The throaty, gruff little _uh uh uh_ sounds are muffled into his neck and sweat makes his fingers slide over Ashton’s shoulders, nails biting into corded muscle and he pushes down onto Ashton, earning a slurred curse, a bite to his pulse that makes him melt, makes his cock throb between them and blurt pre-come out in streams, sliding against Ashton’s chest and _fuck,_ he’s gonna come. He’s going to come untouched, without a hand on his cock to get him off—

“Jesus, Cal,” Ashton groans, “If you don’t shut up—”

That’s when he realises that he’s been talking, flushing under the burn in his cheeks, and he turns his head, presses his slack lips against Ashton’s cheek.

Ashton hisses and pins him against the wall, thrusting in hard, pulling a scream from Calum’s throat.

“Yeah,” Ashton murmurs, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you? _Oh god—_ You gonna come on my cock like a good boy, Cal?” 

Calum thrashes, rolling his hips down, to pull Ashton deeper, to get a little friction on his swollen cock. He can feel the words ignite inside him, the coil in his stomach ready to snap with the slightest—

“You feel so fucking good,” Ashton moans into his ear, the slick sound of his cock thrusting in and out filling Calum’s ears. _“Ungh—god,_ Cal, you drive me crazy.”

And Calum’s finished.

The string pulls taut and he freezes before it snaps, entire body shuddering as come pulses out all over his stomach and Ashton’s, sliding thick down his cock. And god _Jesus,_ Ashton feels even bigger inside him, fucking through it, and the loud gasping breaths coming out of him don’t sound like him, so far away through the haze in his head, the white edges edged around his vision.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Ashton mutters, and as Calum slowly comes down from the high, he supports Calum up with one hand and drags two fingers through the mess on Calum’s heaving stomach.

He brings the come-covered fingers up to Calum’s mouth, pinning him with a heated gaze, and Calum’s lips part, tongue sliding over Ashton’s fingers deliberately, sucking them clean. It’s bitter and salty but Calum’s head is woozy like he’s drugged up and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done.

Ashton groans, drops his hand down to grip Calum’s ass again, bites into Calum’s shoulder and pumps into him, shoving Calum around because he’s gone boneless and fuck, it’s so hot but Calum’s exhausted, and when Ashton comes, his fingers dig into Calum’s ass, spreading him open, fingertips pressed into his crack, as he fucks in once, twice, before going still and pressing his whole weight against Calum.

_“Shit,”_ Ashton mutters, voice thick.

Calum huffs a laugh that sounds delirious, his brain hazy and pleasantly blank, and he pats Ashton’s sweaty shoulder. “Shit, indeed,” he says weakly.

Ashton pulls back slowly, not pulling out, shifting inside Calum enough to make a breath hitch in his chest. He smiles, eyes bright and beautiful, and leans forward to press his mouth to Calum in a kiss that makes Calum fall in love all over again, aching everywhere. His chest is tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, eyes clenched shut, forehead grazing Ashton’s. Uncertainty twists in his stomach. “I’m…sorry, I guess… _fuck—”_ He presses a helpless kiss to Ashton’s lips. “I’m stupidly in love with you.”

There’s a soft puff of laughter against his mouth, a brush of lips against his cheek. Gentle fingers squeeze his thighs. “You want to do this with me still inside you?” Ashton asks, a laugh in his voice.

Calum’s heart barely holds itself together. If Ashton was going to let him down easy, say that it was just a fuck, Calum would probably consider leaving the band because… _god,_ god, he couldn’t take that. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t leave but he wouldn’t be able to look Ashton in the face ever again.

He manages to chuckle back, wincing inwardly when it sounds strained, and pushes at Ashton’s shoulders. “Alright, get out of me, you savage.”

Ashton presses his mouth to Calum’s collarbone and pulls out. Calum swallows the whine at the sudden emptiness and slowly sets his feet down onto the ground. His legs shake as Ashton lets him go, leaves him standing on his own, and goes to throw away the condom.

_Please don’t let this it,_ Calum prays silently, stumbling his way to his bed and sitting down, disregarding the mess of lube spread across his ass.

“I said you were an idiot before,” Ashton says as he comes out of the bathroom, “and I’m standing by that statement.”

Calum sucks in a breath and raises an eyebrow. “Gonna hit me again?”

Ashton rolls his eyes, throwing the washcloth in his hands at Calum’s head. “Haven’t forgotten that time you asked me to spank you in front of thirty thousand people.”

The washcloth lands across Calum’s thighs and he flushes despite himself as he wipes himself down, thinking back to that day, the sting of Ashton’s palm muted through his jeans but so fucking hot all the same. The shiver up his spine as he had managed to laugh out loud and asked Ashton to—

_“Spank me again,”_ Ashton trills in a high-pitched voice, grinning.

“Shut up,” he mutters as he tosses the dirty cloth, watching it land heaped at the bathroom door.

“Cal.” Ashton moves to sit beside him, bare thighs touching, and reaches for Calum’s hand. A feather light touch over his knuckles before fingers thread through his. “I love you too.”

Calum’s shoulders drop like broken marionette.

“Hell, I told the fucking paps that watching Shameless with you was the best part,” Ashton continues, chuckling lightly. He tightens his grip. “I asked you to move in with me. I _love_ you.”

A laugh bursts out of him and he turns to face Ashton, relief dousing the flames of terror in his chest. Ashton’s eyes sparkle and Calum has never felt more in love with this man sitting in front of him.

“We’ve done this so backward,” he mutters, leaning in to drop his forehead against Ashton’s. “You didn’t even tell us you were gay…or bi or pan, or whatever.”

Ashton huffs another laugh and brings his free hand to cup Calum’s neck, thumb brushing against the fluttering pulse. “I know. I’m bi, for the record. But…will you go out with me?”

“I’ll do anything with you.”

Ashton pulls him into a kiss and Calum lets himself fall.  

 

*

 

“No,” Luke says immediately as he opens the door of his hotel room and shuts it abruptly in their faces. “I don’t want to see either of you right now!”

Calum shares a bewildered look with Ashton. “What the fuck, Luke?!” He yells.

The door swings open, Michael’s fond but exasperated face appearing in place of Luke. “Don’t worry about him, he just had to listen to the two of you going at it for half an hour.”

Calum winces, a blush spreading across his face as Michael turns a wolfish grin on him. “Ah,” he says.

There’s a tinge of pink dusted across Ashton’s cheeks as he pushes past Michael into the room. “Shut up, Michael.”

Michael leers at him before grabbing Calum by the wrist and dragging him into the room, letting the door bang shut. _“So?”_

“So, what?” Calum asks dumbly, fingers of his other hand crosses behind his back.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Calum Hood,” Michael says, crossing his arms. “How was it?”

“ _Mike.”_

“Nope.” Michael shakes his head, pursing his lips. “Three fucking years of watching you pine and pant after him, I deserve details.”

Calum’s glare crumbles under the weight of fierce green eyes. “It was fucking awesome,” he mumbles, grimacing as an impish grin curls across Michael’s mouth. He looks over to where Ashton is trying to coax Luke out from under a mound of pillows and smiles. “Yeah, I…it was awesome.”

“Oh my god, it’s worse after you two finally got your shit together,” Michael huffs. But he reaches out to squeeze Calum’s arm. “I’m happy though.”

“Me too,” Calum says, stomach warm.

“Me three,” Ashton calls with a cheeky grin.

_“Me four!”_ Luke yells, muffled under the pillows. “ _But fuck you both! I’m traumatised for life!”_

Michael flashes him another grin and spins around to face Ashton. _“Oi, Irwin!_ Get your ass over here and hug me.”

Ashton abandons the staunchly stubborn, immovable Luke-pile and lets Michael pulls him into a hug.

“You’re a fucking asshole, but I love you so make this work or no one will find your body,” Michael says cheerfully as he pulls back from the hug.

Ashton grins, thumping Michael’s back. He catches Calum’s eyes over Michael’s shoulder.

“Love you too, Mike. Don’t worry, bro,” he says, hazel eyes gleaming. Calum’s stomach aches in the best way. “I’ve got no plans to break his heart.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well. That was it. That was the fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and pleeassee leave comments if you want to yell, cry, criticise, because I lied earlier. While kinky Calum fuels me, comments are my lifeblood.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


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